


End of an Act

by lucky_spike



Category: Homestuck, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Genre: EoA5 Flash, Gen, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-25
Updated: 2011-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:09:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucky_spike/pseuds/lucky_spike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which some characters discuss their roles in the end of act flash, and Problem Sleuth offers consolation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	End of an Act

**Author's Note:**

> I WAS JUST KINDA SAD SO I WROTE THIS.
> 
> derp.

They’d decided on a small gathering, nothing special, nothing spectacular. Some Chinese food and the four of them, in the Crew’s hideout, ultimately on Slick’s bed, clustered around the Crosbytop. The kids were off watching it God knew where, probably pirating it off some website or something, in light of what had happened to the internet.

They’d just waited for it to load, somewhere else. When the livestream popped up, they’d watched in rapt silence.

It was beautiful. And, at the end, Snowman wasted no time before she punched Slick in the shoulder. “You killed me!”

“Well it had to happen, didn’t it? Story needed it.”

Droog was scowling. “I don’t see why _I_ had to die.”

“‘Cause you were gonna kill the blonde kids, and they had to, whatever, crash into the green sun. Fuck it, like I know what’s going on.” Slick shrugged and closed the laptop. “Whatever, I lived. Ha ha.” Snowman punched him again.

“You’ll probably all come back at the end,” Problem Sleuth pointed out as Slick slouched sideways into him, still snickering at the other two. “That’s how it works, I think.”

“I got _decapitated_. By two thirteen year-olds.” He fished a cigarette out of his pocket, obviously forgetting that he was already smoking one. “Bullshit, is what that is.”

Problem Sleuth looked to the three of them, especially Snowman and Droog, and raised an eyebrow. “You do know it’s not real, right? It’s a story.”

“You didn’t die!” Snowman snapped, grabbing Droog’s superfluous cigarette and taking a drag.

Slick snorted. “Sepulchritude ring any bells there Snowy?” He nudged her with his foot. “Alright, both of you, get out of here. Go fuckin’ mourn your fictional selves elsewhere.” Droog glared and Slick rolled his eye. “Listen, asshole, don’t act like you want fuckin’ emotional support. Go smoke your cigarette and iron something and you’ll be fuckin’ fine.” Droog didn’t move. “Alright, what, you wanna rob somewhere tomorrow?”

“I’d hesitate from discussing this -” Problem Sleuth started, but Slick just elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Pick a bank, we’ll knock it over tomorrow, help you feel better.” Slick flopped down in his bed, his back to them. “I’m getting some fuckin’ sleep.”

Droog stood and sighed down at Slick and Sleuth, smoke streaming from his nose. “Yeah, fine, that’ll help. I still can’t believe Hussie killed me.”

“Yes, well, you weren’t sewn into the very fabric of the universe.” Snowman stood and brushed her overcoat off, smoothing out the wrinkles. “If _anyone_ should have survived that flash, it was me.” She sniffed, and then lobbed a fortune cookie at Slick’s back. “But _no_.”

“I’m still integral to the fuckin’ game! Tell ‘em, Sleuth, tell ‘em the rules.”

Sleuth shrugged. “Can’t kill integral characters.”

“Hm. I still think it’s stupid.” She followed Droog as he went to leave the room. Boxcars had evidently been waiting to hear the door crack open, because he called to them immediately.

“Any of you bite it?”

“Snowman and me,” Droog replied, a little peevishly. "And Deuce, Jack killed you."

"Aw, man, why'd you do that, Boss?!"

“'Cause he's a crazy psycho murderer, Deuce. Sorry Droog. The universe gonna end or somethin’ now, right? Not ‘cause of you, ‘cause of Snowy.”

“Not sure yet,” Snowman replied. “There’s nothing after the flash posted. It hasn't ended yet, as far as I can tell.”

“Huh.” Then, louder, “Both of you live, Boss?”

Slick groaned a little before rolling over enough to yell out the door. “Yeah but there’s some other dog-faced bitch running around!”

“I never had the Becquer -” she stopped, and then glared. “Oh, _very_ mature, Slick. Hilarious.”

Sleuth was trying not to laugh, fairly unsuccessfully. “That was pretty good.”

“Except for that it was -“

“Would you get the fuck out of here? I’m beat.” He grabbed Sleuth’s green tie as the detective went to leave. “Not you, stupid.”

Snowman scowled, but she stepped out of the room and into the hallway. “We’ll be having words about this later, Spades.”

“Yeah, I don’t fuckin’ doubt it.” He waved, lazily, and then grabbed Sleuth’s tie again and pulled him down into the pillows. “‘Night, Snowman.”

“Goodnight, Slick. Congratulations on survival.” The door snapped shut, and the meager light from the hallway disappeared with it. Sleuth curled into Slick and took a breath, while Snowman and Droog debated getting a drink together just outside the door.

“Just a fuckin’ comic,” Slick mumbled, wrapping himself more tightly around Sleuth. “Don’t see what everyone’s so bent out of shape about.”

“Well when you _die_ -“

“Been there done that. Doesn’t change a damn thing. Am I right?”

“I guess not.”

“Right.” He yawned, and pushed his head under Sleuth’s chin. “S’just weird, but in the end we’re still right here.” He trailed off, half-asleep now, a comfortably warm bulk against Sleuth’s side. “We’ll always be right here.”


End file.
